
Continuing my series of promotional images: Cardamine is a fairly light read, a mystery/holiday romance partly set on the lovely Waiheke Island, a boat ride away from my present home.

Continuing my series of promotional images: Cardamine is a fairly light read, a mystery/holiday romance partly set on the lovely Waiheke Island, a boat ride away from my present home.

Along with the campaign that is currently running to promote my fiction catalogue, I’ll be posting images of some individual titles in the coming weeks.
Overdose was the first novel I wrote, so long ago that it now counts as historical fiction. It’s a tragicomic story which gives an authentic picture of life in a psychiatric hospital in the late 1970s. Much has changed since then and some modern readers may find the book rather shocking.
It seems like only yesterday that my husband Brian died, but it’s actually nine months ago. While not feeling at all like a “Merry Widow” I’m aiming to enjoy life as best I can, and so decided to spend another holiday in London this year. I’ve visited the UK on my own many times before, but it’s different now without the long phone calls every night to Brian back home in Auckland, and revisiting all the places we used to go together brings back bittersweet memories. In other ways it’s the same, and lovely to be back in my home country during the hot dry summer. Wimbledon, strawberries, and with my invaluable Britrail pass which allows unlimited train travel I’ve been overwhelmed with hospitality from family and friends living in (listed alphabetically) Berkshire, Dorset, Hampshire, Kent, Merseyside, Northamptonshire, Oxfordshire, Sussex both East and West, Wiltshire and Yorkshire as well as Greater London. Here are a few photos.





Returning home without Brian to welcome me is the hardest thing, but I look forward to retrieving Magic and Leo from the boarding Cattery, and hope they will forgive me for confining them there.

Over the years I’ve read many books and watched many videos about mediumship, near death experiences and the like, but never quite let go of the scepticism instilled by my conventional upbringing and scientific education. I recently asked Claude AI to recommend some serious books on the subject, and one of those on the list turned out to be among the most remarkable I have ever read. Raymond, or Life and Death by Sir Oliver Lodge was published in 1916 and is a long book in three parts: a memoir about World War One, an extensive investigation of mediumship, and a discussion about what might be called consciousness studies. The author was an Englishman, a brilliant physicist and electrical engineer whose research into electromagnetic radiation contributed to the development of radio. He and his wife lived in the Birmingham suburb of Edgbaston, incidentally the place where I was born. They had twelve children and the youngest, Raymond, is the subject of the book.
Raymond, like his father and brothers, was a highly intelligent man with a passion for engineering. He was also by all accounts a very pleasant and thoughtful person whom everybody liked. When war broke out he volunteered to serve as an officer in the British Army and after a short training period was deployed to a secret location on the Western Front. His duties involved the design and construction of trenches and dugouts, and he was also trained to operate machine guns. His letters home are reproduced in full and though perhaps they put a positive slant on things he writes that he is happy and cheerful and even enjoying parts of the experience, despite the deaths and mental breakdowns of some of his comrades. I found it interesting and moving to read this detailed account of what life was like for these young men on the front line. After a few months he was struck by a German shell and died an hour or so later. He was 26 years old. Numerous tributes from his relatives, colleagues and friends are reproduced in the book.
Oliver Lodge had already been involved in the Spiritualist movement, along with other eminent men of his time such as Arthur Conan Doyle. Very soon after learning of Raymond’s death, Lodge and his wife scheduled sittings with several different mediums, taking elaborate precautions to safeguard their anonymity. The early communications reported that Raymond had felt confused at first but was now happy in the afterlife, surrounded by many friends, and keen to come through to bring comfort to bereaved relatives on earth. General information of this kind might have been either genuine or fabricated, and in later sittings Lodge sought for more specific evidence. The first of many examples came from a detailed description of a photo of Raymond and his comrades, taken shortly before Raymond died. Lodge did not know about this photo until he was able to obtain a copy later, which rules out telepathy as the explanation. Many other sittings with various mediums provided convincing evidence of Raymond’s survival. Special techniques such as automatic writing and table tilting were sometimes used, and if Lodge had lived 100 years later he would no doubt have taken part in the current research which is using modern technology including AI.
The last part of the book called “Life and Death” draws on philosophy, biology, physics and the author’s own theories. I didn’t understand it all, but had the impression that our understanding of consciousness, mind-body-spirit connections and an afterlife has not changed all that much today. Lodge stresses the importance of keeping an open mind, being willing to revise firmly held beliefs and to admit the limitations of current scientific knowledge.
To accompany my husband’s recently published autobiography A Psychiatrist’s Journey, I’ve posted a list of loosely related books on the website formerly known as Shepherd, now called BookDNA.

Of course I had to include the classic biography of Sigmund Freud by Ernest Jones. This is an admirable work but so long that neither Brian or I ever got through it. In the section of his autobiography that describes his sea voyage from New Zealand to England, where he was to begin psychiatric training at the Maudsley Hospital in London, Brian wrote: “I took Ernest Jones’ three volume biography of Freud, thinking it an appropriate introduction to psychoanalysis. I started to read it several times but could not get far before I started to yawn.”
To see the other books I selected – all of which I did read and enjoy, though they might not be ones that Brian would have chosen – please click here:
https://bookdna.com/best-books/historical-psychiatric-biographies
I’ve written this post in the form of an advice column, in the light of my experience following the death of my husband Brian. Nothing can take away the anguish of losing a beloved partner, but things can be done over the preceding months and years to make it easier to cope when the time comes. Some of this advice may sound very obvious but is often neglected.

Following the death of my husband Brian, the task of editing the memoir that he had asked me to complete has been a bittersweet experience. His book has now been published under the title A Psychiatrist’s Journey and is available in ebook or print versions from many online retailers: https://books2read.com/u/4NzOJN.
A long detailed account of Brian’s varied and productive life, it’s not intended for a wide commercial market but should appeal to people with an interest in the history of medicine and psychiatry, those who grew up in 1930s Auckland, and those who knew him personally. Taking over this project, which was so important to Brian, has been a big responsibility and I hope I’ve done it justice.
I left the wording almost exactly unchanged, resisting any temptation to add things in or take things out, except where clarification was needed or information was repeated. My main change involved reorganising the document into shorter sections, adding headings to make it easier to read and to navigate. It needed many minor copy edits such as standardising the use of capital letters and the format of abbreviations. I made some use of tools like “search and replace”, but they can introduce errors and anyway it was a labour of love which I preferred to do myself by hand. I did employ help with the layout and illustrations from a colleague who has worked with me on previous books. I didn’t use AI.
A short blurb:
“A candid memoir by Brian Barraclough (1933-2025), best known for his research on psychiatric and social aspects of suicide. His book covers growing up in New Zealand, having tuberculosis aged 17, training as a doctor at the University of Otago, practising general medicine in Christchurch and psychiatry in Dunedin before sailing to England as a ship’s surgeon. He worked at the Maudsley Hospital in London, the Medical Research Council unit in Chichester, and the University of Southampton before retiring back to Auckland. His book describes many memorable patients and colleagues and his wide leisure interests including art, European travel, and medical history.”
Here again is the link where you can read a preview: https://books2read.com/u/4NzOJN.
The first time I received an unsolicited email containing fulsome praise for my recently published novel, and a proposed marketing plan, I felt quite flattered and impressed. I replied explaining that due to personal circumstances I didn’t want to proceed at present but would be interested at a later date. Almost at once another email came, this time including a detailed script for a YouTube trailer about my book. It seemed too good to be true, and my suspicion grew when I googled the sender and found nothing about a book promotion service under their name. Even so, in my naivety it took me a while to realise that my correspondent was an AI.
Since then I’ve received many other emails offering to market either my latest book or a previous one. They lavished compliments on my writing: “the work of someone who deeply understands human relationships, subtle suspense and the power of memory and place” “the story breathes psychological nuance, clarity and compassion” “you illuminate the hidden layers of human conflict, emotion and resilience”.
Some of them did appear to come from a real person, although it was hard to tell, and maybe would have led to a genuine marketing campaign if I had taken them up. But I suspect others were from scammers who might take my payment and never contact me again, or even hijack my financial details for illegal purposes. I will never find out, because I am getting tired of the growing influx of such emails, and have started deleting them unread.
Brian was 14 years older than me and had a history of heart disease, so we knew it was likely that he would die first. I tried to prepare myself for the event but it was impossible to predict when and how it would happen, or how I would feel afterwards. Much has been written about coping with spousal bereavement but everyone is different and there is no right way to respond to this monumental life experience.
There have been many practical and administrative matters to deal with during these first few weeks. I have had wonderful support from family, friends and former colleagues, being showered with flowers and food and invitations to meals, cards and letters expressing condolences for me and appreciation for Brian. Although my grief is profound I have not been overwhelmed by it, but have managed everything efficiently and kept in good health. Christmas preparations and festivities are underway too, so I have been very busy. I don’t know whether that is a good thing. I’m afraid that after Christmas, when all the activity and attention has wound down, the loneliness and boredom of being without Brian is really going to sink in.
Brian and I had a wonderful life together until the last few months when the nature of his illness prevented any meaningful conversation between us, and made it unsafe for him to be nursed at home where he longed to be. He had very good care in the hospital, and I did all I could to support him there, but his distress could not be relieved and he wanted to die. Thankfully his last 24 hours were peaceful.
I have a few regrets. I wish that when he was still well we had talked more about planning the future, done some decluttering and possibly downsized. And, although it is comforting to look through all my photos of Brian, I wish I had taken more videos of him.
My beloved husband Brian died from respiratory failure last week.
He was 92 years old and in recent months had endured a gruelling decline of both body and mind, due to cardiac and cerebrovascular disease. He was ready to leave this world and while it is a blessing that his suffering is over, his death is a great loss for me. During the 47 years we were together my role had gradually evolved through different stages – mistress, wife, nurse and now widow. Of course there were challenges, but not too many. We had a wonderful marriage.
There is much else to be thankful for. Brian had excellent care from the staff of North Shore Hospital in Auckland. I am receiving a huge amount of support, especially from Brian’s three nieces, and from friends and relatives in both New Zealand and the UK. My cats are being especially affectionate at night.
We will have a small private funeral service, then I expect there will be a difficult few months ahead, sorting out Brian’s affairs and possessions, adjusting to life without him, and doing my best to develop a happy future for myself.
Brian had not quite finished writing his extended autobiography. Due to his incredibly vivid and detailed memory, the document contains a lot of valuable information not only about his own life but about the history of psychiatry in both NZ and the UK. I aim to complete the editing process and publish it next year.